


Hold On (It's Going To Be A Bumpy Ride)

by gingeraleandchocolatecake



Series: you know what we're like [3]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Beacon Hills, F/M, Hunters, Teen Wolf AU, Werewolves, banshee - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-02 13:03:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2812973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingeraleandchocolatecake/pseuds/gingeraleandchocolatecake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke’s a [hunter] banshee.<br/>And Bellamy’s not helping with nearly getting himself killed all the time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy!

 

Clarke was a good fighter. She was experienced and swift and Bellamy heavily relied on her while he was fighting, because despite his strength, someone was always stronger.

The party was in full swing. Raven was cutting someone to pieces with her sword, Miller was chasing someone around the abandoned building, Jasper and Monty were attacking the same guy with their teeth, Finn was shoving someone against the wall and scratching him to shreds, Octavia was launching knifes in a particularly sadistic form of torture, Monroe had her hand around one guy’s neck and Clarke was shooting arrows while Bellamy did his alpha thing.

Which was: Stand around and look menacing and crush an enemy in, like, a second.

Clarke had an arrow poised, pointed directly at the head of an oncoming werewolf when suddenly her body was it with a wave of shock and she dropped her bow to the floor with a pathetic clank. Her eyes widened and she felt her breathing stop. The werewolf was coming at her but Clarke fisted her hands in her hair, doubled over and  _screamed._

She screeched at the top of her lungs,  _so loud,_ that Bellamy turned away from his current fight to see her crumbling to the floor. The alpha wasn’t stopping so Bellamy roared and launched himself at her, slamming whoever she was into the floor while Clarke collapsed onto her knees with her head thrown back in an ear piercing howl.

Clarke suddenly stopped screaming and sucked in a sharp breath as she threw herself forward and landed on her hands. Her chest was heaving and tears watered her eyes. Bellamy watched in panic from the side and suddenly the whole room went silent, He glanced around.

The fight was won, just like Bellamy knew it would be.

Clarke stood on all fours, her chest still heaving as Bellamy ran over to her. He picked her off the ground and onto her feet, his hands secured around her arms. “Are you hurt? Did she hurt you?” he demanded, lifting her jacket off her back and roaming is hands over her ribs and around her neck.

He pauses monetarily when she looked up at him in shock with her mouth parted and He realised that being this close to her was not doing anything for his self control.

She slowly placed a hand over his wrist and he paused. “ _Monroe.”_ She whispered, turning around to point.

Monroe’s body lay limp on the floor with a rapidly increasing pool of blood beside her. He face was mangled and torn to shreds and Clarke could practically hear her screams echoing in her head. Miller dropped down beside her and unflinchingly pushed the hair from what remained of her face and placed a kiss on her forehead. Silently sobbing.

Bellamy stared and sighed loudly, running his hand through his hair “ _Fuck.”_ He muttered.

Bellamy walked over and a few minutes later, Miller picked her up and carried her to the morgue. Clarke sat on one of the steps with her legs bend and her head down. Her bow was on the floor beside her and Bellamy nearly didn’t see her because her clothing blended in completely with the night.

He tentatively sat next to her, “You okay?”

Clarke looked up at him with tears stinging her eyes, she violently rubbed them away, “Yeah. I’m fine.”

He used him thumb to wipe the blood that laced her cheek and frowned, “What happened out there?” he asked.

She frowned worriedly, “I don’t know.” She whispered, her body shaking from the sheer shock

Bellamy rubbed his eyes, “Why d’you scream Clarke?” he tried again.

She buried her face in her hands, “ _I don’t know_ ” she repeated stronger.

He threw his hands up, “You don’t know, _you don’t know_ , Clarke you could have died!”

Clarke stared straight ahead at the place of Monroe’s last breath, where the blood was smeared in the shape of someone who no longer existed, “But I didn’t.  _She_ did.” Bellamy relaxed and nodded understandingly, his hand coming to rest on her back and gently rubbing it reassuringly. She shuffled closer to him, until their legs were brushing against each other and she looked at him. She reached up and wiped the blood that was above his eyebrow, “What if next time, It’s you, or Raven, or Octavia.”

He sighed, “Princess, I wouldn’t send her out if I didn’t know she could handle it. Things happen; Monroe knew what she was getting herself into.” Bellamy reassured.

Clarke tilted her head to look up at him and he could see the pure fear in her eyes. _“I heard her”_ she whispered, terrified with her entire body shaking from pure fear.

He frowned, “What?”

She swallowed, “I could hear the voices telling me she was going to die. I heard her last breath. I  _heard_ her die, and when she did, it’s like something hit me. I _screamed._ I think it’s because she died.”

Bellamy raised an eyebrow and shook his head, “Go home princess. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

 

“I figured it out”

Bellamy jumped from his bed. He was surprised that he hadn’t smelt her sooner, but she knew how to get around werewolf senses. “What the hell Clarke?” he cried, rubbing his eyes.

The moonlight was streaming through his window and shone down on Clarke who was standing at the end of his bed like some creepy 60’s horror movie. She was dressed in a pair of grey shorts with a loose white shirt and her hair in a bun while she paced around his room with a sense of urgency behind her words.

“Why I keep screaming, I figured it out. I’ve been researching on the internet, but then I realised it’s the internet, and what kind of banshee has the time or the bother to write on Wikipedia about how twisted her life is so, I started reading the book that Raven’s dad has and-”

“ _Clarke!”_ He yelled, trying to gain her attention  _and_ stop her from pacing around his room.

_“What?”_

Bellamy pointed to his clock, “It’s three o’clock in the morning and... did you come through the window?” he added and Clarke stared at him while he clambered out of bed.

Her eyes were wide, not with panic, panic was becoming a familiar emotion; they were filled with fear. A dreading fear that Clarke had carried around for months. She looked petrified, like it was in her nature, like her own existence scared her. “I need help.” She stated strongly, an underlying beg.

He scoffed, “What else is new?”

“Bellamy.” She grabbed both of his arms, forcing him to look at her. He frowned at the intense look in her eyes; she seemed manic, insane, like she hadn’t slept at all. “I’m serious.” She stated gravely.

He nodded slowly, “Okay.” he agreed, pushing the hair away from her face, “Whatever you need princess.”

Clarke reached into her pocket and pulled out a small needle, holding it towards a wary Bellamy. He shuffled back slightly as she looked at him. “I need you to take my blood”

“ _What?”_

Clarke woke up the next morning on a soft green couch in the middle of Bellamy’s warehouse. She sat up groggily, rubbing her eyes. The sunlight was streaming through the loft window and Clarke winced. She held her arm up to shield her from the light just as the front door slid to the side with a loud clank.

Bellamy strutted in, wearing no shirt and drinking a cup of coffee which she suddenly started craving. “Morning sunshine” he stated, taking a sip and Clarke groaned.

“What am I doing here?” she asked, running her fingers through her hair.

Bellamy frowned, seating himself down next to her. It took all of Clarke’s self control not to stare at his torso while he placed the cup of coffee on his coffee table. “You don’t remember?” he asked carefully.

She raised a confused eyebrow, “What happened?”

He scoffed, “You broke in at about 3 am blabbering about something to do with a banshee Wikipedia page” Clarke buried her head in her hands and groaned. “And then you asked me to take your blood”

She snapped her neck around to look at him, " _what?"_

Bellamy nodded, leaning back on his sofa, “Do you know what you were talking about?”

She frowned at him. She suddenly snapped her fingers and her eyes burst open, “I figured it out”

He sighed loudly, almost rolling his eyes, “Here we go again.”

Clarke waved him off. “Raven’s dad has a book of all the supernatural creatures in existence and I was reading through it, trying to find out what it is that I am. And I came across this...” she trailed off, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a neatly folded piece of paper. She laid it out onto the table, unfolding it and pushing it down flat. She pointed to the picture of a screaming woman with writing next to it. “It’s called a banshee”

Bellamy frowned, “A banshee? Like the old Irish folklore?”

Clarke nodded, “A banshee is connected with some kind of supernatural network that tells them when someone is going to die, or even when they’re dead. Do you remember when we went on that school trip and we stayed at that motel?”

Bellamy nodded, “I heard about what happened”

Clarke pointed to the picture again, “I could  _hear_ the voices of all the people who’d been killed there. I could hear all of them as they died, begging for their lives, their last words, where they were, I was attracted to the places where they died. I didn’t even realise I was going there, it just happens, I just wander over and then I realise where I am.”

Bellamy narrowed his eyes, “Then why did you need your blood?”

“I wanted to compare it to yours, to see what qualities it has. If there’s something in my DNA that makes me a Banshee, like there’s something in your DNA that makes you a werewolf, then maybe I can figure out some way to control it.” She explained, “It’s the  _only_ explanation. I know what I am!”

He pursed his lips, "Have you told Raven, or anyone, about this?" he asked carefully.

Clarke shook her head, "I told her dad it was for research. Maybe now I know what it is, I can work with it" she explained, almost smiling, “I can be normal.”

Bellamy frowned. He trusted Clarke. She was smart and she usually knew what she was talking about. But when she looked this manic and exhausted, he really didn’t know what to believe. He folded the paper, “Look, Princess, maybe you should get some sleep and-”

“You don’t believe me.” Clarke interrupted in a hurt tone.

“No, no, no of course I believe you, I trust you... but, it’s just, are you sure? Banshees are extremely rare and I’ve heard stories about what happens to some of them.” Bellamy defended.

She frowned, “Is this about Murphy? Are you still pissed off?”

He pursed his lips, his hand balling into a fist, “Let’s not talk about Murphy.” He strained.

She sighed, rubbing her eyes, “You’re right, I need sleep” she stated, standing up and brushing past him.

“Wait Clarke-” he called after her. She turned around and he scratched his neck, “Look. Go home, get some sleep, watch some TV, and we’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”He had a soft look in his eyes, like he almost cared.

_he doesn't get it._

She pursed her lips, “Yeah, whatever”

 

 

Clarke woke up in Bellamy’s bed.

Which was pretty dodgy since she sleeps at home, on a moderately comfortable mattress, on the other side of town. She groaned, rolling onto her side and forcing her eyes open. She blinked against the lights seeping through the window and rolled onto her back. She forced her eyes open groggily and frowned. She’d seen Bellamy’s room before. It was a long room with a double bed at one end and a window to its left and a chest of drawers opposite the bed with a painting of his family on top. 

Bellamy was sitting on the window ledge, staring out into the town. He seemed so mesmerised by this that he hadn’t noticed Clarke waking up. He cradled a mug of coffee in his hand that was both cold, and completely full. Clarke pushed herself up with her hands before a sharp pain ran up her wrist. She glanced down at the red tinted bandages on her arm and frowned. There was an IV line plugged into her and she yanked it of her arm, letting it drop to the floor.

The light tap was enough to make Bellamy’s neck snap around to look. He stared at her wide eyed before slamming the coffee down on the chest of drawers and jumping to his feet. “ _Doc”_ He yelled, walking over to the door and pulling it open, “She’s awake!” he called.

Heavy footsteps padded across the corridor and Clarke sat up higher, “What’s going on?” she asked and Bellamy turned to stare at her.

She noticed his eyes were red rimmed and his knuckles bloodied. Someone, whom Clarke could only describe as a doctor, walked into the room and shut the door behind him. He smiled at her, “Miss griffin, it’s nice to see you awake.” He stated, putting his black bag down on the end of the bed. “I’m just going to take your blood pressure and change your bandages and then let you get some rest.”

Once he’d changed her bandages and taken her blood pressure he turned to Bellamy, “She’s fine now, just keep an eye on her for any change in behaviour.”

Bellamy nodded, shook his hand and let him walk out. The air was thick with anger as Bellamy returned to his spot on the window sill and simply sat there with his legs slightly parted and his head in his hands.

“Bell...” Clarke started slowly, pushing off the plain white covers and slowly placing her legs on his wooden floor. “What happened? Are you okay?” she asked quietly. Her bare feet pattered against the floor as she slowly sat next to him. She placed a hand on his shoulder and he flinched away. She dropped her hand to her side, “Bell, what’s wrong?” she asked. He sat still for so long that eventually Clarke sighed. She stood up, taking a few steps towards the door.

“Suicide.” Bellamy muttered.

Clarke turned around, twisting on her feet, “What?” she asked carefully.

He looked up at her sadly with his fingers interlaced between his legs, “You tried to commit suicide.”

She gaped at him. Her mouth open like a fish, she stood still. She was paralyzed with fear and shock while Bellamy stared at her with eyes filled with hurt and betrayal.

“I..I-... What?” she repeated, dumbstruck.

Bellamy swallowed, his eyes watering. He jumped to his feet and stormed over to Clarke, enveloping her into a tight hug. His hand over her head and the other wrapped tightly around her waist. Clarke froze under his touch until eventually wrapping her arms around him. Her body started to shake violently as she started to sob into his shoulder.

“Why d’you do it Clarke?” he rasped, his eyes watering and his voice began to waver.

“I don’t remember” she whispered, “I don’t remember” she started to hit Bellamy as her wails started to grow, “I don’t  _remember”_

She pushes his torso but her held onto her as her knees gave way and she collapsed into his chest. Her screams and cries got louder and higher and chokier. Bellamy carried her down to the floor as she continued to sob into his shirt.

She curled up against his chest with her legs hanging over his lap and is arms wrapped around her waist, “I thought you were dead, I thought you’d died.” He repeated over again.

“It was the voices, it was the voices.” She kept repeating.

And Clarke doesn’t remember how long they sat on the floor, sobbing into each other’s arms, but she remembers feeling safe. And not once did she hear the voices.

 

 

“A banshee?” Raven deadpanned as she stomped out of their English class with her rucksack hanging off her back. She looked at Clarke with a raised eyebrow as they began to make their way down the corridor.

“Don’t look at me like that!” Clarke defended.

“No, no, it... it actually makes sense” Raven frowned.

Clarke did a double take, “...Really?”

“Yeah.” Raven agreed casually.

“You  _believe_ me?” Clarke asked with a frown.

Raven rolled her eyes, adjusting the strap of her bag, “Well, don’t look so shocked” she mocked, throwing her hair over her shoulder.

Clarke shook her head, “No it’s just... Bellamy didn’t” she sighed, rubbing her eyes.

Raven waved a hand, “Bellamy’s an asshole.”

“Fair point” Clarke grinned as they turned the corner.

“Look. I know you won’t want to hear this, but the only person who really knows anything about this stuff... is Murphy.” Raven stated awkwardly slowing down as they reached her locker.

Clarke lent next to her, “No.” She stated, shaking her head.

“Clarke-” Raven sighed, swapping her books out.

“ _No._ Bellamy still hasn’t forgiven me, he pretends like he doesn’t care but I know he’s pissed off” Clarke explained angrily as Raven slammed her locker shut.

Raven shrugged, “You  _did_ use him to resurrect his psychotic uncle from the dead”

Clarke threw her hands up, “Not on purpose!”

“Get Bellamy to go with you then. Look, just talk to him. Murphy’s the only one who can tell you what you are.” Raven stated as Clarke slowed to a halt in the middle of the corridor. She had two books clutched in her arms as she purses her lips.

“I don’t need to talk to him.” She stated, looking ahead.

“Why not?”

Clarke pointed to the black car parked outside the school with Bellamy standing outside, leaning his hip against the door. She sighed, “Because he just heard every word.” Bellamy chose that moment to wave and Clarke smacked her forehead with her hand. “You’re such a privacy invader” she muttered and he pouted. Clarke waved goodbye to Raven and tightened the hold on her shoulder bag as she scurried between the flock of students and out the entrance doors. She pushed them open, frowning slightly as she approached Bellamy.

“Could you be any more stalker-ish?”

Bellamy scoffed, “I’m not stalking you.”

She raised an eyebrow, “Come on. I saw you when I was shopping last weekend. I saw you when I was in the cinema with raven, when I was food shopping with my mom, when I visited my dad. I may be going crazy, but I’m not blind.”

Bellamy scratched the back of his neck, “I was just...keeping an eye on you. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

She clicked her tongue, “I can take care of myself”

He smirked, like there was a secret he knew, “I don’t doubt that”

“Then don’t follow me”

“I’m trying to keep you safe” he huffed.

“No you’re not. You’re trying to make sure I don’t have some psychotic break and kill everyone.” Clarke cried, throwing her arms up.

Bellamy stepped forward, “I’m worried” he hissed quietly, is hand wrapping around her wrist, “I’m just looking out for you.”

“Well so am I. I don’t know what the hell is happening to me, I don’t know to control it, I can’t sleep I can’t eat, all I see when I close my eyes are dead bodies. I hear voices all the time and I hear people dying, people screaming. I don’t know what I’m going to do.” Bellamy stepped forward to reassure her but she stepped back. “But I know I don’t need your help, because that comes with your judgement”

Bellamy raised an eyebrow, “My  _judgement_? You resurrected my Uncle;  _he tried to kill us all”_

Clarke threw her hands in the air angrily, “It was an accident!”

He pointed straight at her, “You  _shot me_  thirty times!”

“No-on died!” She huffed, crossing her arms in a defensive move.

“Sterling died. Octavia nearly died.  _You_ -...”

Clarke froze. Her eyes wide. It was like she was seeing something play out right before her but she couldn’t do anything about it. Bellamy stopped talking and frowned, he snapped his fingers in front of her face. Her mouth dropped open and she stepped back.

Her bag slid of her shoulder and landed on the floor with a loud thud, her books piling out and those in her arms dropped like dead weight. The pages flew from their binds and formed into a whirlwind, with them being carried into the air. Her chest started heaving, her breaths coming out in pants.

Bellamy stepped forward, frowning, “Princess, are you-”

She cut him off with a bloodcurdling  _scream_ that made him flinch and made his eyes widen with panic. He stepped forward, to hold her up while her voice strangled into a screech. Bellamy doesn’t remember a time where he’d been any more terrified than when he watched this beautiful woman crumble to pieces before him.

She slowly slid to the floor her nails digging into Bellamy’s arm as he followed her down. Her chest was heaving and she was gasping for breaths.

“What’s going on, what’s wrong?”

She started to sob, her finger clutching desperately at the fabric of Bellamy’s shirt, “ _Finn.”_


	2. Chapter 2

Her hands were tight around the steering wheel, so tight her knuckles started turning white. Her eyes were trained solely on the road as the rain plummeted down on the wind screen. She didn’t know where she was going, and it scared her more than he knew.

“So how does this work exactly?” he asked carefully.

Clarke’s eyes clouded with fear. “I don’t know. It just happens.” She muttered.

He nodded uncomfortably, looking through the windows into the dark. “What else do you know about banshees?”

She glanced at him, “You believe me now?” she stated, annoyed it had taken this long.

Bellamy shrugged, “You being a banshee would probably be the least bizarre thing that’s happened in this town”

Clarke sighed, her fingers subconsciously turning the wheel into a forest road. “Why don’t you believe me?” she asked tiredly.

Bellamy shook his head, “Clarke. You hear voices in your head, you haven’t slept in days, and you’ve tried to kill yourself. Sorry if I’m a little sceptical.”

Her hands tightened on the wheel, “I didn’t realise I was killing myself Bellamy. The voices took over. They told me to do it, I can’t remember what happened. The only thing I remember from that night is when I woke up in your loft.”

Bellamy ran his fingers through his hair, “Do you have any idea how that sounds?” he asked and she flinched.

Clarke was grasping at straws. To Bellamy it sounded like she was just trying to define something that to him seemed like insanity. It drove him crazy to watch her go crazy. To watch her crumble and lose her grasp on reality. It made his heart ache and his chest heave at the thought of ever losing her.

“No one ever believes me, no one cares!” she cried angrily.

“Hey!” Bellamy yelled, “Don’t you dare think that. _I_ care.” He said, reaching for her hands and interlacing their fingers, “I’m on your side. The world is not against you.” He added. He placed the other hand on her cheek just as the car slowed to a soft halt. She looked back at him with a terrified look in her eyes. He stroked her cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear with tender fingers that made her _forget_. “I’m on your side. If you need anything, I’m here.”

Clarke frowned worriedly, “I’m scared Bellamy” she whispered quietly, her shaking fingers wrapped in his palm.

He frowned, a soft look in his eyes as he stroked his thumb across her cheek, “Why are you scared?”

She swallowed and looking into the dark, “Because we’re here.” She rasped.

Clarke wondered aimlessly through the woods, slowly, while Bellamy followed behind her, his hands dug deep in his pockets and his ears alert for any surrounding sounds. She trudged along the leaves, her feet stumbling along the mud.

Bellamy’s hand shot out in front of Clarke, his palm pushed her back as he stepped forward. “What is it?” she asked.

He sucked in a sharp breath, “I can smell him.”

Clarke swallowed and forced herself to keep moving through the cold. Her feet trudged through the mud until eventually she stopped, staring at the body ahead of her. Bellamy placed a hand on her back as she stepped forward slowly.

She wanted to be wrong, she so, _so,_ wanted to be wrong.

She lowered herself to the ground and rolled him over, holding her breath as tears sting her eyes. She was expecting it to be him, and she wasn’t not wrong. She looked away as quickly as she could and held her hand over her mouth.

 “You were right” he muttered.

Clarke reached forward and shut Finn’s eyes slowly. “I usually am” she commented.

She noticed the vivid scratches across his chest and his ripped shirt and she shook her head. She stood up, walking over to Bellamy.

“You’re the banshee.” He stated, letting out a deep breath, “What happens now?”

Clarke sighed softly, “Now, We find Monty.”

There was a rustle in the bushes and Bellamy’ neck snapped round to look at it while Clarke reached for the gun in the back of her jeans; she trained it at the bush and narrowed her eyes.

Bellamy frowned, “You’ve got a gun?” he asked carefully.

She frowned, “Yeah” she stated, “That a problem?”

Bellamy swallowed, his hands closing around the weapon, as though to stop her doing anything stupid. “Give me the gun Clarke.”

She swallowed in response and glared at him, “Why?”

He grimaced in a pained expression, “I don’t want you having one of those things at your disposal. Not in your condition.”

Clarke frowned, “What condition?”

Bellamy sighed in frustration, his hands fisting in his hair, “Come on Clarke, it’s like giving Vodka to an alcoholic. Eventually he’s going to cave.”

She yanked the gun back from him, “I’m not some hurt little girl Bellamy. I’m fine.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat. He couldn’t tell her he didn’t trust her. He couldn’t tell her to what extent he was constantly worried that one day he’d wake up and she’d be dead. She’d have killed herself to get rid of the voices incessantly roaming her head.

She was pale and frail and Bellamy constantly had images of her holding a gun and not being able to protect others, and even herself, and he constantly run scenarios in his head. In the end he resulted to following her, keeping a close eye on her.

“Okay.” he reluctantly agreed, “We’ll do it your way.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Bellamy pointed to the map on the dining table.”We’ll enter through here” he stated, swiping his finger across the map.

Jasper raised an eyebrow, “Through the wall?” he asked and Bellamy felt Octavia roll her eyes as she stepped away from the window, twisting a knife in between her fingers.

Bellamy gave him a deadpan look, “There’s a front door, idiot” he stated.

“Why is he here?” Octavia asked in an annoyed tone and Jasper narrowed his eyes in her direction.

“Be nice” Bellamy warned half heartedly.

“You could always use the chimney” Murphy mocked from his seat on the spiral stairs, “As long as I’m not the one to wear the Santa suit”

Bellamy let out a long sigh and waved his hand, “Ignore him, he’s stroppy because he’s stuck here with Miller”

Miller’s neck snapped up from his phone, “I’m sorry, what? I’m stuck with him?” Miller shook his head, “That’s not going to happen”

Murphy stood up slowly, “I’m not exactly happy about it either, sunshine.” He sneered, taking a bite of his apple.

Miller pointed to him, “The last time I was in a room with him, he tried to kill me.” Bellamy sighed loudly.

Murphy held out his arms, “But I didn’t, did I? You’re still alive” he sneered, taking another bite of his apple.

“You killed my best friend” Miller growled and stepped forward but Bellamy stepped in front of him. Bellamy placed a hand on his shoulder, and widened his eyes.

“Don’t” he warned, “We need him.” He muttered quietly.

“He killed sterling” Miller hissed and before Bellamy could say anything, Murphy scoffed.

Murphy waved his hand disinterestedly, “Sterling would have died anyway, with the way he was walking, he had hours at best.” He stated.

Miller stepped around Bellamy just as his nails shot out, “You son of a-”

“Stop it!” Bellamy yelled, “Both of you. You-” he pointed to Murphy “shut your mouth. And you-” he pointed to Miller, “control your temper.”

“He’s a murderer” Miller seethed.

“Remind me, who it was that killed Roma?” Murphy asked sarcastically just as he threw his apple into the bin.

Miller grit his teeth. Roma was an accident. He and Octavia had been chained up in the safe of a bank and he had ravaged Roma to pieces because they’d been let loose, wildly on the full moon and torn each other to shreds. Miller was stronger.

Jasper sighed, leaning against the table, “Where’s Clarke?” he asked.

Bellamy scratched the back of his neck, “At school. Learning. Just like she should be.” He stated, rolling up the map.

Octavia frowned, launching a knife that narrowly missed Murphy and hit the central spiral of the stairs, “Does she even know this is happening?” she asked.

“Nope.” Bellamy shrugged, sliding the map into a tube and screwing the lid onto it.

Octavia crossed her arms as Miller stepped forward, “Why not?”

He sighed, “Because if she knows, then she’ll want to come. And she’s not coming.” Bellamy explained.

Octavia laughed and shook her head, “She’s going to kill you.”

He shrugged, “That’s if she finds out.”

Octavia rolled her eyes at her brother’s stupidity. The door slid open and slammed into the wall, so hard that the room shook. Clarke stood on the other side with a black shoulder bag around her shoulder. She stepped forward, a brewing anger in her eyes as she dropped her bag into her hand.

She stood on the other side of the loft while Bellamy looked back at her with his arms crossed. He took in a sharp breath. The silence seemed to go on for minutes and minutes and each second dragged out. Clarke’s chest heaved as she swung her bag around and launched it at him with a yell.

“ _What the fuck?_ ” she screamed as he caught the bag before it hit him in the face.

“I’m guessing she found out” Octavia muttered as her, Miller and Jasper swerved around Clarke and out the front door.

Murphy sat on the stairs and rolled his eyes, “Stupid lover’s quarrels” he muttered as he turned around and walked up the stairs.

Bellamy let the bag drop to the floor as Clarke started to walk towards him, “You’re hypocrite Bellamy. You’re an asshole. You’re a liar and you’re completely full of shit.” She listed on her fingers as she approached him.

“You’re not coming.” He stated disinterestedly.

“The  _hell_  I’m not!” she bellowed, getting right up into his face.

“Princess” he whispered, staring at her with eyes full of hurt, “Go home.” He warned, his voice almost cracking.

Clarke tilted her head, and in a sarcastic tone she said; “And let you have all the fun?”

“I mean it” Bellamy forced strongly his hands gripping at her upper arms, “Turn around and go back to your mother.” Clarke pushed him off.

“Shut up Bellamy.” She hissed, turning around and fisting her hands in her hair.

She wondered across the room and Bellamy held the silence and he watched her stumble until she reached a bean that ran vertically through the middle of the room. She held onto it, slowly dropping to the floor beside it and leaning her back against it. She bent her legs and rested her elbows on her knees.

He cocked his head, “Clarke. Are you sure you can handle it?”

“What are you, my dad?” She raised an eyebrow and Bellamy shook his head.

“Someone has to be”

Clarke looked at the floor and in a soft voice said, “I’d rather it not be you”

“Clarke-”

“You need me.” She burst out, looking at him in the eyes, “You need what I know, you need what I have, and you need what I do. Anyway, you can keep a better eye on me if we’re all stuck in a car on our way to Mexico.”

Bellamy shook his head and grimaced, “I can't have you die while we’re down there.” Clarke clambered to her feet.

“Your worry warms my heart.” She sneered, wondering over to the table and leaning her hip against it, standing next to Bellamy with her arms crossed, while his were tucked into his pocket, staring at the door.

“What heart?” he mocked.

“Funny.” Clarke scoffed.

“Princess,” he started, kicking his feet in a nervous move, “I can’t lose you. If you die, I won’t be able to do this anymore. I need you. Not your skills, although they’ve got us out of some sticky situations. You. Just you. I need you to come back to me. I need this annoying blond who likes to get her way and is irritatingly moral. I can’t lose you.”

Clarke frowned, “I’m not yours Bellamy. You can’t lock me up in a cage like some rare bird and stare at me when you feel like it. I’m a leader, just like you.”

Bellamy smiled softly, “You’re not just a leader Clarke, you’re my anchor. If you die, I’m  _literally_  going to go off the rails.”

She stared at him, at the sincerity in his eyes, “I thought you were your own anchor.” She muttered.

He breathed a laugh, “Your anchor is normally the person who you care for the most, the person who keeps you grounded, someone you trust.”

Clarke shook her head,  _“I’m_  barely grounded.”

Bellamy sighed, “Princess. I want to trust you, and you want that too.” he held his face in his hands, stroking his thumb across her cheek, “But it looks like you’re losing your mind. I hurts to watch you struggle with your grasp on reality. It kills me. So as your friend, I’m asking you, are you okay?” He asked carefully, turning to face her.

His hands itched to clutch at the fabric of her shirt and pull her in for a hug. She looked down at the floor, “No.” She whispered quietly.

Bellamy sighed loudly, dropping his forehead against hers and closing his eyes. He took a deep breath and stepped away from her, “Then as a leader, I’m going to ask you to stay behind”

“ _What_?” she snapped, grabbing onto his shirt, “You can’t be serious?”

Bellamy continued, “I’m going to post Miller outside your house to keep an eye on you while I’m gone and I’ll check in when I get back. But until then, you’re going to stay here.”

“You can’t leave me here” she almost begged.

“I’m sorry princess.” He reassured.

Clarke frowned worriedly, her hand absentmindedly reaching forward and tentatively placing her finger tips lightly over his cheek. The moment her cold fingers touched his warm cheek he flinched and is eyes twisted into a shade of deep shade of bloodlust red, before suddenly returning to brown.

Clarke stepped forward, “You promise you’ll come back alive?” she ordered.

He nodded, “I promise” and when Clarke leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his cheek, he realised that if he didn’t come back alive, he’d regret it more than she knew.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Mexico was hot, which wasn’t exactly unexpected, but jasper did not do well in the heat, as he liked to repeat.

“For fuck’s sake, Jasper, stop it!” Octavia cried from the back seat of Bellamy’s car. She shoved Jasper harshly to the side and he crashed into the window with a smack. When he peeled his cheek away there was a white mark where his sun cream had washed off. “Oh come on, you got it in my hair?” She cried, peeling white strands from her brown hair.

“I have a pale complexion!” he defended, squeezing a large blob into his palm, “I burn like an Irishman in the sun”

Octavia scoffed, “I’ll burn _you_  in a second.” And with that she pushed his hand to smack into his face.

Jasper sighed, pulling his hand away to be met with Octavia and Bellamy’s booming laughs.

Raven raised a disbelieving eyebrow, “He’s one of the best you’ve got?” she asked

Bellamy shook his head, “Don’t be fooled. He may act like an idiot, but he’s actually an idiot.”

Octavia snickered while Jasper continued to rub cream over his nose. “How far are we?” Jasper asked, rubbing his hands together.

Raven glanced down at the map on her lap, “Not far, we should see the church soon.”

Jasper pointed between the chair, accidentally elbowing Bellamy in the face, “Is that it?” he asked.

Raven tilted her head and glanced into the bright sunlight, “Yeah. I think so.”

Bellamy stared at the moderately sized building. It had two towers that rose above it with pointed roofs and a grand entrance. Bellamy pursed his lips, “We’re here” he stated, pulling the car to a halt in front of it.

They all clambered out of the car, doors slamming loudly and raven went to the back of the car, opening the trunk. She had weapons laid out in rows and lines with tags on them and grenades in a separate bag.

“You sure you got enough guns?” Bellamy asked, frowning mockingly.

Raven tutted, “It would be better with Clarke here. She’s the expert hunter, not me.”

Bellamy glared at her, “She’s safe. That’s the important part.”

Raven frowned at him, “You knew she was a banshee and yet you treated her like she was going crazy.”

He crossed his arms, “I suspected. But I didn’t want it to be true.”

She shook her head, “She was going crazy, all she needed was your support Bellamy, and you treated her like some psycho.”

“Yeah well, what about you, where were you?” he cried.

Raven cocked her shot gun loudly with one hand while the other held onto a revolver. “That’s exactly my point. Where were any of us!” she yelled back and Bellamy had the decency to look ashamed.

Jasper and Octavia frowned worriedly from the other side of the car as Bellamy advanced towards raven with his finger pointed at her. “I would never let anything happen to her, all I want to do is make sure she’s safe and sane.”

Raven softened, “But by doing that you stop her being Clarke, you’re so afraid you’ll lose your anchor that you won’t let her do what she does best, help you.”

Bellamy ran his hand through his head, “ _Shit_.” He muttered, “I did something stupid didn’t I?” he asked and Raven laughed.

“You fucked up mate.” She smirked but when she saw the worried look in his eyes, she sighed. “Look, she’ll forgive you. She needs an anchor as well, doesn’t she?”

All she needed was an anchor to keep her grounded.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The fight was bloody and long. Bellamy had scratched all across his chest and his face and he was getting weaker. The alpha he was fighting was strong and normally this was where Clarke would step in to save his ass.

Bellamy was weak, drained. He couldn’t stand up anymore. His knees gave way and he felt himself crumbling to the ground. The room was dark and musky and he’s pretty sure he was seeing red spots.

He fell onto the ground and sucked in a long breath. He’d broken a few ribs and they were piercing his lungs and he found it hard to concentrate. This is it. This is the end. He felt soft images slide before his eyes.

Blonde hair in swift curls that flew around the air as Clarke ran to the beach. Her smiling, her laughing and her looking at him. Her pressing a kiss on his cheek. Her saving his life, over and over again. Her nearly dying. Her crying in his arms. Her holding tightly onto him so she wouldn’t fall down.

 _“Clarke_ ” He breathed quietly with a soft smile as the alpha approached him.

She hovered over him, her nails ready to attack and baring bloodied teeth. “Any last words?” she sneered.

There was a loud bang as the locked door slammed open and Clarke burst in. She had a shotgun in her hand and her hair tied into a pony tail. She lifted the shotgun to rest in her other hand with one finger on the trigger.

“Yeah. Get away from him, bitch.”

Clarke cocked the weapon and shot once. She cocked it again, each time taking a step forward and each time the alpha fell back. _Bang. Bang. Bang_. The alpha collapsed against the wall, clutching her shots and then Clarke sot one final round into her head.

Bellamy watched her with shock over his face as she stood still, watching the alpha die before her. Clarke lowered her gun and turned to Bellamy. She grinned, holding out her hand. Bellamy stared at it for a moment and then back at her.

He slipped his hand in hers and lifted himself up. They stood opposing each other as Bellamy dusted himself off. He took in a choky breath, “You’re late.” He stated

Clarke smirked, “Traffic was a nightmare.” She replied and Bellamy smiled and then winced.

Clarke frowned, “Can you turn?” she asked and Bellamy doubled over coughing, clutching his stomach. Clarke grabbed onto his arm to stop him falling.

“No.” He rasped, standing straight, “This whole building is laced with wolfs bane.”

Clarke pointed to the alpha, “How’d she turn?”

Bellamy waved is hand, “She’s half werewolf, she has a different tolerance”

Clarke checked the bullets in her gun and hissed. She threw it across the room and then reached to the back of her jeans and pulled out a berretta, she checked the bullets. Bellamy watched her as she reached into her ankle and pulled out a small revolver. She checked the bullets and hissed again, “Damn-it” She looked up at him, “I haven’t got one for you.” she stated just as Bellamy coughed again and plastered blood across the floor.

She growled, throwing is arm over her shoulder and wrapping her arm around his waist. She hoisted him up, “Looks like its princess to the rescue” she muttered.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way” he murmured quietly as Clarke limply carried him out the door.

“ _Miller_!” she called. Footsteps were heard and Miller came round the corner behind them.

He took one look at Bellamy and jumped to attention, “Is there anyone behind us?” she asked.

Miller nodded, “I’ll take your rear. You go ahead.” He stated.

Clarke nodded and turned around. She lugged Bellamy along, his feet dragging as he continued to cough up blood. Clarke stumbled a few times and scolded herself each time. She carried him down the corridor just as a bezerker turned the corner. This may sound corny, but she had silver bullets, and they worked too.

She shot twice and dragged Bellamy around the corner. She could hear the carnage, the screams, the cries and the blood splattering against the wall. Clarke kicked open the entrance door and yelled, “ _Raven, He needs medical attention._ ”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Once out of the building, Raven had put Bellamy down in the boot of his car. Now that he wasn’t surrounded with wolfs bane, he could heal faster. Clarke had gone back to her car and sat in the open boot with her legs touching the desert floor.

“I thought I told you to stay home” Bellamy stated, approaching her carefully with his wounds not yet fully healed. He sat down next to her.

Clarke raised an eyebrow, “I thought I told you not to die.” Bellamy smirked.

“I’m sorry I made you stay back” he stated sincerely, Clarke waved a hand.

“So you should be. You alright?” she added, lifting his shirt partly up with her finger nail and inspecting the lace like cuts.

Bellamy felt the nail scratch his skin and he shivered, shrugging her off, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Good.” She smiled.

He reached forward and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as he gave her a short reassuring smile, “Are _you_ okay?”

Clarke nodded, “Yeah.”

Bellamy looked down awkwardly at his feet, “And the voices?”

Clarke turned to look at him, crossing her legs and sighing loudly, “Oh, I’m controlling them.” She states like it’s no big deal.

“How?” he frowned.

Clarke smiled at him, “I found my anchor.”

Bellamy grinned leaning forward slowly and pressing his lips to hers. His fingers tangled in her hair and his mind breathing in her scent.

He tasted like fear and hope, and fear and hope tasted like a sweet was melting in her mouth and like honey was dripping down her throat. She felt like she was walking on clouds and like she could do anything. She felt invincible and unstoppable and undefeatable, she felt like everything was falling into place. She felt pins and sparks of electricity run up her spine. She was on fire, her veins filled with an intoxicating poison.

“You know, you smell like dirt” Bellamy muttered against her lips and Clarke laughed.

“You taste like blood, but you don't see _me_  complaining" she smirked.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments would be lovely


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